Whilst the streaked grey silvery flow rushed by, up and down,
Unaware of the turmoil within the house,
Whilst the streaming serpent of traffic, screeching and spluttering,
Hissing and puffing, waiting for red and green, red and green,

Whilst people strolling, carefree or hurried, harassed or angry,
Some to be soon mysteriously swallowed underground,
Whilst the pod-carrier wheeling at snail pace its wide-eyed charges
for a few pennies to heaven and back, to heaven and back

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